Damans Sedley, entering the antechamber by a small side door, swam into
the ken of a number of eager players gathered around a gentleman of
flushed countenance, who, with much swiftness and dexterity, was
wreaking old grudges upon the shuttlecock. One of the audience trod upon
the player's toe; each courtier bowed until his sword stood out a
straight line of steel; the maid of honor curtsied, waved her fan, let
her handkerchief fall to the floor. To seize the piece of lawn all
entered the lists, for the lady was very beautiful, and of a seductive,
fine, and subtle charm; a favorite also of the Queen, who,
Narcissus-like, saw only her own beauty, and believed that Sir Mortimer
Ferne's veiled divinity was rather to be found on Olympus than upon the
plains beneath. In sheer loveliness, with lips like a pomegranate
flower, mobile face of clear pallor, and beneath level brows eyes whose
color it was hard to guess at and whose depths were past all sounding,
Mistress Damaris Sedley held her small head high and went her graceful
way, moving as one enchanted over the thorny floor of the court. She had
great charm. Once it had been said beneath a royal commissioner's breath
that here in this portionless girl was a twin sorceress to the Queen who
dwelt at Tutbury.

Sorceress enough, at least, was she to draw to herself speech and
thought of this particular group; to make those who were ignorant of her
relation to the shuttlecock think less of the treasure of Spain than of
the treasure which their eyes beheld, and those who had been his
friends, who guessed at whom had been levelled those fair arrows of
song, to start full cry (when they had noted that she was merry) upon
other matters than lost ships and men. It was not long that she would
have it so. "As I entered, sir, I heard you name the _Star_. That was
one of Sir John Nevil's ships. Is there news of his adventure?"